


Cyclical

by Orangepencils



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orangepencils/pseuds/Orangepencils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ode to a laundry machine.</p>
<p>Or, Jack finds it soothing to watch their laundry being washed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyclical

**Author's Note:**

> Special heads up to Lomitzz for beta-ing my crazy ideas.

** Cyclical **

****

Cyclical

 

Jack wasn’t certain what had caused it. Sure, there was the fact that the last month had been downright grueling, with six consecutive bad games, Eric being away more often than not and a health scare from his mother, but when he woke up that morning to an empty bed, the storm finally crashed over him.

 

He had gotten better at dealing with his anxiety over the years, but there were still times when he was left gasping for air, feeling squeezed on both sides. It was easier when Eric was there with him to run a soothing hand down his back and talk him through it, but Jack vaguely remembered that his boyfriend had gone out to run errands that morning, which meant that he was very much alone in his suddenly too big apartment.

 

He needed air.

 

He walked out of his room, thinking a glass of water and fresh air would do him good. He felt his hands trembling on their own and it got just a little harder to breathe. It was suddenly too warm and maybe he should have gone directly outside his bedroom, but he needed more open space than the balcony provided.

 

He needed –

 

He needed –

 

Jack paused abruptly when he passed by his laundry room. He would have almost missed it, had it not been for the soft _klang-klang_ that came from the washing machine.

 

He walked, almost mechanically, to the machine and stood in front of it.

 

He assumed Eric had started a load, before leaving. It was the only reason he could think of.

 

Jack stood in front of their washing machine for a full minute, before he finally sat cross-legged on the floor.

 

It took five minutes of him watching the swirl of mixed clothes, before the walls didn’t feel as though they were going to collapse on him. It took another two minutes for his breathing to return to normal and for his heart to stop beating so frantically. It took three more minutes for his palms to stop sweating and the shaking to go away.

 

The worst was over.

 

He didn’t know what it was, but there had always been something about watching his and Eric’s clothes being washed together – using the same soap, same detergent, in the same machine that soothed him. It was as if he had tangible audio-visual proof that Eric lived with him and enjoyed being there with him, when he could see their socks, underwear, shirts, shorts, and everything else tumble away merrily while being washed.

 

The first time he had done their laundry – the first weekend Eric moved in, Jack had spent the entire cycle marvelling and watching the clothes spin. Slowly, at first, that he could identify which items were his – and then fast, to the point where everything turned into a blurry haze.

 

He found it grounding.

 

Jack didn’t always sit on the floor to watch their laundry, but if Eric was away and he wasn’t feeling his best, he would sometimes retreat to the laundry room for a moment.

 

He remembered the first time Eric found him sitting cross-legged, leaning his back against the detergent cabinet, apparently mesmerized by the tumble of clothes. Eric had tried chirping him, but the words had died on his lips when he had seen his face. Instead, he had wordlessly sat beside him and had taken his hand, before resting his head on Jack’s shoulder, waiting with him.

 

The soft whoosh and whirl of the laundry spinning quietly was white noise for Jack and he used the start of the cycle to identity every item he could, calming his frayed nerves. He played the game, as it got harder, the faster the cycle turned, until his eyes were unfocused and he couldn’t remember why he had felt so bad in the first place.

 

By then, he was usually better and he would stop. Today was not one of those days and he continued, as more water was added and the clothes started spinning faster.

 

\--

 

Bitty walked into a quiet home and he briefly wondered if Jack hadn’t gone out for a run. However, when he noticed that his running shoes were still tucked under the small bench in their entrance beside his own slippers, he frowned.

 

He put the groceries away, before he went off exploring, wondering where Jack could possibly be hiding.

 

He would have probably walked right by him, had he not seen the spot of green against the cream ceramic tiles that revealed itself to be a sock.

 

He gently pushed the door to the laundry room further apart and found Jack pressed back against the cabinet, sitting on the floor, his knees to his chin, looking both utterly dejected and deeply focused on the laundry. Bitty felt his heart constrict ever so and felt bad he hadn’t been home, when Jack had clearly needed him.

 

“Jack, honey?” He tried and saw him flinch slightly. Bitty stepped inside the room and sat next to him. He leaned his head on Jack’s shoulder and squeezed his knee in what he hoped was a comforting way. He felt, more than heard Jack let out a deep sigh, and Bitty knew the worst was over.

 

“You’re back.” It was more of a reassuring statement for Jack than stating the obvious.

 

“Of course I am.” He murmured and brought his hand up to Jack’s hair. The years they had spent together had taught him that Jack liked it when he played with his hair and that he found it soothing. Bitty never missed a chance.

 

Jack slumped against him and Bitty gave him a side hug, deciding to rub his back with his free hand. Jack took a deep breath and Bitty kissed the top of his head. For a full minute, (Bitty was able to tell – he saw the timer change on the washing machine), they stayed that way, until finally Jack sat up.

 

“I’m sorry. Hi.” He whispered, looking from the washing machine to his hands and then to Bitty.

 

“Don’t be. I know, don’t worry about it, okay? I’m here. I’m always here for you.” Jack nodded. He knew Bitty was right. Everything was always better with him around. He calmed the storm in his head and brought out the sunshine again. It had always been that way, after he had allowed himself to pursue his happiness.

 

“Thanks, though. Really. It means a lot.” Even though he had told him this a million times already, Jack always felt he had to let Bitty know how much he was thankful for everything he did for him.

 

“You’re welcome.” Bitty kissed the side of his face and smiled at him. “And you know I don’t mind. Now, why don’t you come to the kitchen with me and I’ll fix us somethin’, hmm?” Jack nodded and Bitty helped him to his feet. As they walked out, Jack hugged him from behind, careful not to put his full weight on him. He pressed his face to the crook of Bitty’s neck and took in his scent, letting it wash over and lull him into that familiar feeling of home, love, and comfort he had come to appreciate over the years.

 

“I love you.” He mumbled and he felt Bitty lean further into him, clutching on to his arm a little tighter.

 

“Love you too, baby, now come, I know just what to bake to make you feel better.”

 

And as Bitty lead him to their kitchen, chatting on about a new recipe he had found and how maple syrup had been on sale at the store, Jack allowed himself to smile softly, the laundry whirling quietly in the back.

 

**FIN**

**Started writing: September 13 th 2015, 3:50pm**

**Finished writing: September 13 th 2015, 5:21pm**

**Started typing: March 20 th 2016, 1:49pm**

**Finished typing: March 20 th 2016, 2:35pm**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm randomoranges on Tumblr. Come say hi if you want :)


End file.
